Homeless Chic

(Verse 1) I'm begging you, please don't slam the door, Mr. Whoever-You-Are. There's a paper cup in my pocket, Doing tricks for money, a desperate racket. Begging for a nickel or two, In this urban maze, I find my debut. (Pre-Chorus) I'm having fun, making new friends, But there comes a time when I must descend. Back to the streets, my makeshift home, Even if it's just for a few weeks alone. (Chorus) Homeless chic, a paradox we wear. Stussy hoodies and desert boots made in Vietnam, My face on a milk carton, they came for me unbound. I'm not going anywhere. (Verse 2) This place is nice, oh, so dangerous, Streetlights and sidewalks, our domain, contagious. Dogs and scraps, my loyal companions, Never going back, defying life's conventions. The weight of this world threatens collapse, But here, on these streets, I find solace, perhaps.